“An’ this is Jim O’Brien’s house?”
“Whose else id it be? But there now, don’t talk anny more. Sure, we’ll tell, ye all about it whin y’re betther. The docthor sez y’re to be kep’ quiet.”
“But who brought me here?”
“Troth, ’twas carried in ye were, an’ you near dyin’. Hush up now, will ye? Take a dhrop o’ this, an’ thry to go to shleep.”
When Jim came into his supper his wife said to him, “That craythure upstairs is mad to get away. She thinks we begrudge her the bit she ates.”
Jim was silent. Then he said, “Sure, annythin’ that’s bad she’ll b’leeve ov uz.”
“But ye’ve nivir been up to see her. Shlip into the room now, an’ ax her how she’s goin’ on. Let bygones be bygones, in the name of God.”
“I won’t,” said Jim.
“Oh, yes, ye will. Sure, afther all, though ye didn’t mane it, ye’re the cause ov it. Go to her now.”